In Ink
by Shadow-of-Lilith
Summary: It does no good to blame, and it does no good to dwell. Putting the past behind her, Hermione returns to Hogwarts after the war to keep her mind busy. She knows that time will heal the wounds of the war, but the scar left behind is not as easily hidden.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognise belongs to the incomparable J. K. Rowling. Anything you don't belongs to me.

_Please note the __sensitive topic/issue/theme_/_ warning and __mature_/ _rating of this story._

**Keeping Focused**

_September 1st 1998_

As always, Platform 9 ¾ was crowded with students, parents, siblings and thick with steam from the scarlet train; _The Hogwarts Express_. Hermione Granger took a shaky breath and pushed her way through with her school trunk, feeling rather empty that barely any of her close friends would be returning with her. She sighed, ignoring the tears pricking her eyes as she saw families; broken and alone, or whole and complete, hugging each other and chatting amidst the chaos.

It was times like these she missed her own parents. Although the Ministry had an extensive team of Wizards searching for Wendell and Monica Wilkins, Hermiones' parents' new identities after she had obliviated their memories a year ago, they had so far found no trace of them in their new home country of Australia. As much as she tried to ignore the dark thoughts lurking at the back of her mind, Hermione often worried that the Death Eaters may have found them during the war. After all, it was a possibility.

_Stop it_, she thought, trying her best to be optimistic. With a sigh, she finally made it to the train, hauling her heavy trunk in after her. She excused herself as she squeezed past a group of Ravenclaw's, keeping her head down. She had been warned that the students would probably be asking her about what happened 3 months ago, and she was intending to avoid that subject altogether.

After peering into several compartments, she finally found an empty one near the back of the train. With a grateful smile creeping on her face, she levitated her trunk up to the luggage rack and sat down on the soft seat, rubbing at her temples. She wished her friends were here. It felt strange to be going to school without them, but she understood the different reasons why Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna were not returning, at least for the first term.

Ginny was still in Scotland at an intense Quidditch training camp. She had gone just for fun at first, but Hermione knew it was to keep herself busy and not worry about the past. She was meant to be home to go back to Hogwarts, but she had been invited to attend try-outs for a new under-20 quidditch team. By the sound of her last letter, Ginny was really shining through.

Luna, on the other hand, was still in St. Mungo's being treated for the wounds she sustained in the fight. Xenophilius, Luna's shaken father, had been persuaded by Mrs. Weasley to come around to The Burrow at any time, even if it was just for a meal and a chat. Hermione had seen him a few times over the summer - he had looked so lost without his only daughter. From what Hermione could tell, Luna was doing well, but didn't have a release date.

Harry and Ron, of course, had no intention to return to complete their last year of magical education. Hermione smiled faintly, knowing how..._them_ it was to not go back now that the Ministry of Magic had offered them jobs in the Auror Department.

With a jolt, she realised the train was moving swiftly from the station, and the platform was shrinking away in the distance. She almost regretted asking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley not to accompany her Kings Cross, but knew that she would never have gotten on the train if they had been there. She felt so guilty going away from them after all they had done for her, but knew it was for the best. They had a family to look after, and were still mourning the loss of Fred; Hermione felt that she would just be in the way.

A soft tap on the door brought her back to reality. She quickly pushed the thoughts from her head and uttered a small, "Yes?" as she twisted a brown curl tightly around her finger. Her brown eyes widened as the blonde head of Draco Malfoy peered in, a small blush creeping across his hollow cheeks.

"May I? Everywhere else is crowded," he muttered, not looking at her. "And noisy," he added as a bout of loud laughter floated down the train.

Hermione surveyed him, noting how thin he looked and how dull his eyes were. She was surprised to see him, she wouldn't deny, but nodded. She guessed that he, like her, was trying to avoid questioning glances and demands for details about the fight from the other students.

He smiled in thanks, and lifted his school trunk to the racks before sitting down on the seat opposite gratefully, shrugging off his black blazer. Hermione noticed that he had been limping, but hid her surprise. Everyone had scars, no matter what part they played.

"Potter and Weasley aren't coming back?" Draco asked awkwardly, trying to cover the silence. He ran his pale fingers through his hair, looking out at the green countryside they were passing.

Hermione shook her head, following his gaze to the pastures. "No, they've got jobs at the Ministry," she answered, ignoring the pang in her stomach. Barely half an hour into the journey, and she was missing them already.

They hadn't gone a day without seeing each other all summer. All three of them had been living at The Burrow, and Harry and Hermione truly felt like a part of the Weasley family. Even though Harry and Ron had started working at the Ministry a few days a week, the trademark Weasley family dinners were never missed. But, as much as they all tried to ignore it, there was always that one empty spot next to George that would never be filled again.

Noticing her eyes were watery, Hermione snapped out of her thoughts and asked Draco is any of his friends were returning, hoping to focus on something else. Now was not the time to think about how much she'll miss the Weasley's.

"I think Blaise is here somewhere," Draco replied, pulling a book from the side of his trunk. He flicked it open lazily, and Hermione took the hint that he wasn't in the mood for talk. She was grateful, actually - small talk was not her strong point, and she felt slightly ill. She wished she could find Neville; just seeing a friend would make her feel better.

Swallowing hard, she copied Draco and pulled a book from her trunk, ignoring the dull pain in her head. She hoped Madam Pomfrey would have a good supply of headache clearing potion once she got to Hogwarts.

As the journey across the English countryside wore on, several people she knew popped their heads in to say "Hello," on their way past her compartment, and a group of young, giggling Hufflepuff's were gossiping loudly in the corridor about the battle. Hermione rolled her eyes at their lack of knowledge about what really happened, and she saw Draco's jaw was set hard when they were discussing who had died.

Shaking her head, she quickly placed a silencing charm over the door, keeping the high pitched voices away. She swore she heard Draco snort as she went back to reading about Artemsia Lufkin, but ignored it. The silence was lovely.

* * *

><p>The silhouette of Hogwarts against the night sky was beautiful, and yet Hermione noticed that several of the towers were in ruins and some others had missing roofs. As she walked into the Entrance Hall, she saw that the floor was still cracked, and there were a few craters in the walls. Although the night was warm, Hermione shivered, trying to push all the memories of May out of her mind. Clenching her jaw, she wiped away the tear that had fallen down her cheek and pushed her way through the throng of students and into the Great Hall. Somehow, she felt even colder here.<p>

Looking around, she saw the four school tables, looking as grand as ever. However, the usual Hogwarts House decorations above each table were non-existent. It their place were black curtains and tapestries. Hermione glanced at the other students milling around and realised that she was not the only one with tears in her eyes.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said as she strode briskly past Hermione towards the staff table, ruffling through a stack of parchment. Her greying hair was, as always, in a tight bun, and she was wearing her usual emerald green robes. Seeing something so familiar amidst something that felt so foreign made Hermione realise that not everything has changed.

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione said, sitting down at the Gryffindor table and tying her hair into a messy ponytail. Out of all her years at Hogwarts, she had never heard the Great Hall so quiet for the start of term feast.

Several minutes later, she was joined by Neville Longbottom, who seemed to look so much older than what he had when she had last seen him 3 months ago. In the place of the wounds and cuts that had littered his face, neck and arms from the battle were now scars, the most noticeable of which was on his cheek. She blinked away tears, smiling. "Oh, Neville, it's so good to see you," she said with a smile, as he sat opposite.

"It's good to see you, too," he said, grinning and flicking his dark hair from his eyes. "Harry and Ron not here?"

Hermione shook her head. "They've started working at the Ministry-" She stopped as the doors opened and Professor Sprout lead the nervous looking group of first years into the hall. The wave of silence washed over everyone, and Hermione remembered what it was like when she was in that group.

"Were _we_ really that scared-looking?" Neville whispered with a grin. Hermione stifled a laugh, as Sprout started explaining the sorting process to the little first years.

Hermione watched on eagerly as the sorting hat started singing. It reminded everyone that no matter who you are, the war had affected you in some way, along with explaining how each house played a part in how Hogwarts is the way it is today. The round of applause once the hat fell silent was deafening, and Hermione saw most of the Professor's dabbing at their eyes.

After the sorting, the feast that appeared out of nowhere was just as incredible as it was the first time Hermione had seen it eight years ago. Mountains of roast meat, bread, pie, pasta appeared on golden platters, and the collective gasp from students old and new made her smile.

Realising how hungry she was, Hermione dished up some roast beef and potatoes, happily sliding into school life again. Having something to busy herself with for the next year was something that she was looking forward to. When she had time on her hands, she couldn't help but think of everything bad that had happened. All the people that had lost their lives here haunted her thoughts, and those left with the scars kept on blaming her and her friends in her nightmares.

She listened to Neville talk excitedly about the upcoming school year, so pleased for him that he had received the Head Boy badge, even though, like her, he was returning to repeat NEWT year. She was amazed that how after everything he's been through, he still managed to be so bright and optimistic. He deserves this happiness, she thought, remembering that if it wasn't for him, a lot more people would have died, including her.

As the feast cleared, McGonagall stood up at the staff table, and silence fell as she surveyed the hall of students. "As it's later than what I thought, I wont be long, but I do have a few important things to say. Firstly, welcome, and welcome back to our students. Secondly, the black curtains and banners are here as a sign of respect for all who fell fighting for their cause. The normal school coloured banners wont hang at all this year. Thirdly, we do have older students returning for their studies. Some of them will be well known to all who read the papers, so please respect their privacy-" McGonagall's eyes landed on Hermione and Neville, giving them a small smile. "Now, last school years _atrocious_ curriculum and detentions will certainly never be used in this school again-" a loud cheer sounded, and Hermione joined in clapping. "And all first years, please follow your Prefects to your common room, and to our new Eighth Years, please see Neville Longbottom for details on your new common room."

"New common room?" Hermione whispered to Neville, raising an eyebrow. He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers on the wooden table as Professor McGonagall resumed her speech.

"Lastly, some parts of the castle are still being re-built, so those areas are out of bounds for your safety. You have seen the craters here in the walls, and the deep crack in the entrance hall - if all goes to plan, those will be fixed by the weekend. Now, I bid you all a good night, and I expect to see you all back here for breakfast tomorrow to receive your timetables."

As the noise started again, Hermione rubbed at her temples, wishing her headache would go away. She heard prefects calling for their new first years, their voices strong over the chatter. Hermione smirked, remembering when she and Ron were the new Prefects and he had called the new students 'midgets'. She would never say so aloud, but he did have a point.

"And here they come," she heard Neville say cheerily. She looked up, surprised at seeing so many of her old classmates. She honestly thought that there would only be a few returning, but nevertheless was pleased that . First to arrive was Ernie McMillian, strutting along proudly and giving a smile as he reached Hermione and Neville. Following him were the Patil twins, Parvati and Padma, along with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, all four of them looking happy and healthy, if not a bit tired. Hermione gave them a warm smile, before seeing Justin Finch-Fletchly arrive, his left arm in a sling, closely followed by Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor who Hermione knew well. Finally, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy came over, the latter limping awkwardly.

Hermione gave a weak smile as she stood up, smoothing over her blue jeans and feeling rather tired. She looked over at Neville, who was staring intently at his watch, looking slightly flustered. "Neville?" she asked warily, frowning.

"Hang on," he said. He stayed silent for several seconds, then abruptly stood up, giving a tight smile. "Come on, guys," he said far too brightly, "McGonagall has given us the Upper East Tower as out common room and dormitories. She thinks we will appreciate the privacy and lack of questioning looks," he chuckled.

Still glancing at his watch, Neville lead the way while most of the older students chatted amongst themselves. Hermione lagged behind, barely paying attention to the list of privileges McGonagall had given them all, but she did appreciate the freedom that they all had. She caught something about being able to go to Hogsmeade whenever they felt like, which brought a small smile to her face.

As she passed by the familiar corridors and portraits, her mind drifted to Harry and Ron. It was about this time of evening that she and Ron went for a stroll around The Burrows' overgrown gardens; he prattling about his day at work, trying to make her laugh at some stupid thing or another, while she appreciating the alone time they got. Although they both tried to hide their closeness, Hermione knew that Mrs. Weasley didn't buy their story of being only friends for a second.

The sound of Neville's voice telling them all the password to the tower (_parsnip_) brought Hermione back to the present. Silently, she followed the group into their new common room, eyes widening at how large the tower actually was. She smiled, noticing that there was a tray of butterbeer on what looked like a dining table in the corner. She hung back, listening to Neville explain that they had the option of eating here if they didn't want to go to the noisy dining hall. After telling everyone that they also had separate rooms, Neville bade a quick good night, looking at his watch as he hurried to the staircase at the other side of the room.

Yawning, Hermione followed suit, muttering a 'night' as she headed up the stairs. She smiled as she saw her name on a plaque, and creaked open the mahogany door, revealing a cosy room within.

"Thanks for the silence today, Granger," she heard Draco Malfoy drawl, although not as coolly as she was used to after six years of torment.

She gave a small smile as she saw his blonde head disappear around the corner. Muttering a small "You're welcome," she closed the door, before flicking her wand at her trunk, which started unpacking itself. Her clothes flew to the wardrobe in the corner, her books arranged themselves on the dark bookshelf above the large desk, while the parchment stacked itself neatly on it, and her school robes folded up on the green arm chair.

Stifling a yawn, she quickly changed into her pyjamas, before sitting down at the desk, trying to think of what to write to Ron.

_I made it. I'd forgotten how long that train ride was. Wish everyone else was here. Has your mum mentioned Luna at all? Do they know when she's getting out?_

_Give everyone a hug for me._

_x_

She smiled sadly as she folded it up, wondering how his day had been and what silly thing he had done this time. Looking over the desk, she saw her photos' stacked up by the quills. She immediately picked up the top one; a picture of her, Harry, baby Teddy (with bright green hair), Ron, Ginny, Percy, George, Bill and Fleur, which had been taken over the summer. Smiling, she stuck it on the wall as the occupants of the picture waved cheerily.

She turned sharply at the sound of a tapping on the window. Surprised to see an owl there, she quickly let it in. "Now what are you doing here?" she asked, noticing that it was not carrying a letter. It looked at her, then the letter folded up on the desk. "Mind-reader," she laughed, tying the letter to its leg. "Take that to Ron at The Burrow," she told it kindly.

With a soft hoot, it flew off into the night. Hermione quickly closed the window, before dousing the candles' and slid into bed. She knew she would never be able to sleep, but she tried to close her eyes regardless.

She hated insomnia. But considering everyone else, she'd gotten off lightly.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thank you for reading! It's quite fun to play with missing moments in canon :3 I'd love to know your thoughts so far! Especially with characterisation; I've never exactly written main characters from the Potter-verse before hehe :3


	2. Chapter 2

**Something Happy**

_September 19th 1998_

Hermione easily slid back into life at Hogwarts. Even though almost everything was back to normal, she took nothing for granted. The view was as beautiful as ever, the food delicious and she even had a new-found soft spot for Peeves, Hogwart's infamous poltergeist. The little blue man with bat-like ears was determined that not a day would go by without some sort of class disruption, be it either him confusing the staircases, leaving students trapped in corridors, or stuffing gum in the key-holes before classes, which many of the first years thought was brilliant.

As another loud bang was heard from the floor above, which almost seemed normal since they were heard so often during both night and day, Hermione decided it best leave the library early for a change and head to the Eighth Year common room. Tucking three large books on self transfiguration into her school bag, Hermione quickly weaved her way out through the many desks of the deserted room and out to the landing. Hearing muffled yells, followed by more bangs, Hermione bit her lip, hoping that the roof restoration was going to plan. Like Dark wounds on humans, Dark damage was also not as easily fixed as one would hope. McGonagall, who had explained this to all the Prefects and Heads, had also added that due to the large scale of damage in the castle, all repairs would take longer to complete than what was originally planned.

Trying not to worry too much, Hermione walked through the silent corridors to her common room, grateful that most students were all in their beds. It was well past normal curfew, but Eighth Years had no set rules. Hermione was pleased at the trust the teachers had in them.

Although she rarely wandered around at night, Hermione had started to appreciate the silence that came with it, even though it was disrupted by construction works occasionally. McGonagall had employed repair witches and wizards around the clock to get the damage fixed as soon as possible. Nevertheless, she decided to head back to the common room, knowing full well that if Peeves saw her out of bed, he would never let her live it down. After muttering the password and clambering through the portrait hole, she sunk into one of the comfy arm-chairs and resumed reading _A Guide to Healing Potions _in the flickering light of the fire, absent-mindedly scratching Crookshanks, her large ginger cat, behind his ears.

Realising that it was most likely well past midnight, Hermione sighed, placing the book on the table beside her and leaned back into the chair, exhausted, but feeling far too tense to sleep. With Crookshanks walking over her lap, trying to find a comfortable spot to sleep on, she was on the verge of wishing for the very first time that Hogwarts had a television - _anything to do in the early hours of the morning would be welcome_, she thought. "You have a good life at three thirty in the morning, don't you, Crookshanks?" she murmured with a smile, his purrs calm and repetitive. "Come on, we'll go upstairs. At lease _pretend_ that I can sleep." She rolled her eyes, growing annoyed at how tired she was.

After reaching for her bag and throwing it over her thin shoulders, she picked up her heavy cat, who glared and stalked off in front of her, and made her way quietly up the stairs. After slipping in her room, she left her bag on the door and collapsed onto her bed, not even bothering to take her uniform off.

Reaching over for her diary of homework, she read over the past two weeks since she'd been back at school, wondering if there were any more extra credit assignments she could busy herself with instead of lying in the dark silence wide awake. Despite her having asked her teachers, she knew that they couldn't give her any more work. _"There's only so much extra credit one can do, Miss __Granger,"_ was what Professor Vector had said several days earlier at her plea for another assignment.

With the flickering candlelight for company, Hermione mulled over in her head about what classes she had in the next two days and how she was going to stay awake for them. Remembering several books on meditation her mother owned - _used_ to own - Hermione tried to remember what they said exactly.

_Step one: Clear your mind in a nice, quiet setting._

"I can do half of that," she breathed, looking around her quite room. "Clearing the mind, however..." She was tempted to not even try; she knew it would be absolutely impossible. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hermione, just do it," she scolded herself, forcing her eyes to close. Taking a measured breath, she focused entirely on clearing her mind, noticing nothing but the silence of night time. _Clear, clear_, she thought, picturing the word to at least let her mind focus on _something_.

_Clear, clear, clear, clear your mind..._

She frowned slightly, desperately picturing the letters, but couldn't. The noise in her head was deafening, full of cries, the knife, falling through the air, everything burning to cinders before her eyes.

She snapped her brown eyes open, sweat lining her brow, her breathing haggard. "Merlin," she said weakly, clutching at her cheat to slow her racing pulse.

Shaking her curls from around her throat, she got up, rubbing at her temples, and headed into her bathroom, throwing ice water over her face. "That's why you don't go to sleep," she muttered to her reflection. Never one for vanity, she barely took any notice of how pale her face was, but she stopped to have a closer look. She hardly recognised the thin, pasty skinned girl staring back at her with wide, bloodshot eyes with limp brown hair giving a frame. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose as she dried her hands with a soft towel, before heading over to open the curtains of her room.

Shielding her eyes as the early morning sun shone in through the arched window, creeping slowly over the tidy desk and the four-poster bed, Hermione slowly grew accustomed to the light as she tied her bushy hair into a bun.

Looking through the window, she gazed over the view, trying to push her nightmares (or were they merely thoughts? She realised that she hadn't a clue if she had fallen asleep or not) from her mind. Focusing on the horizon of the great calm lake, the rich yellow and orange streaked sky were mirrored beautifully on its waters, she could see several tentacles from the Giant Squid waving lazily in the morning air.

She smiled. This was the Hogwarts she knew and loved. The random creatures that popped up out of no where were the small things that made her school special. Cherishing the fact that a simple view could almost calm her completely, she leaned against the stone wall, grinning as Crookshanks leapt onto the sill, scratching at two birds taunting him through the glass.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts..." she hummed quietly, contemplating what she would do for the next two hours until breakfast would be served. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see the three owls flying at her window until she barely had any time to open it and duck. She gasped as they flew over her, all holding packages of varying sizes, while Chrookshanks gave a strangled yelp and left the room in a huff. "Woah," Hermione breathed as the birds landed on her bed, waiting expectantly for her to untie the parcels.

Immediately, she recognised the middle one as Errol, the Weasley family's elderly owl, who was missing a significant amount of his brown feathers. Hoping he would be able to manage the journey back, she quickly untied the box and letter he was carrying, smiling at Mrs. Weasley's hurried scrawl across the envelope.

After untying the burdens from the other two younger owls, who had all feathers intact, Hermione set the three parcels on her bed, opening Mrs. Weasley's letter first;

_Dear Hermione,_

_Happy 18th Birthday! We all hope you're well and are having a good day. Ron mentioned that you're allowed to leave Hogwarts to go home on weekends - if you're free from homework, we're thinking of having a birthday dinner for you this weekend, dear. Do you think you'd be able to come? We all miss your terribly._

_Ginny wants me to tell you that she is intending on getting you a present, it just might arrive a bit late._

_Love,_

_Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Teddy, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron, Luna, Ginny and Harry _

Birthday... Hermione hadn't even thought of that at all. Her mind was always busy with homework and Prefect duties. "I'm 18," she murmured, reaching for the present from the Weasley's. Buy the weight and size of it, she guessed it would be a book. Sliding her fingers under the brown paper with a grin, she gasped. In her hands was a very ancient first edition of _Hogwarts: A History._

"Wow," she breathed. First editions of the book were incredibly difficult to come by, and even more difficult to buy since people never wanted to part with them. She couldn't even begin to wonder how the Weasley's had found one.

Mesmerised, she ran her hands along the tattered cover, tracing over the golden letters. She couldn't help but beam as she flicked through the musty pages, noting all the dog-eared corners, small burns and stains over the aged parchment. Madam Pince, the school librarian, would have a fit if she saw the amount dust on the book.

After carefully placing the book on her desk, she reached for the letter with Ron's messy writing on, and the small package that came with it. She missed him, missed his hand in hers, missed his silly jokes he'd gotten from Muggle books. She hoped she would be free this Saturday - a dinner with the Weasley's for her birthday would be very welcome indeed.

Ignoring the pang of homesickness from The Burrow growing in her stomach, she opened his letter.

_Happy Birthday, beautiful! I saw these in Diagon Alley and thought they'd look good on you. Did Mum invite you over for your birthday tea this weekend? I hope you can come. Any chance of a drink tonight at the Three Broomsticks, just us two?_

_Have a great day, sweetheart._

_Love,_

_Ron xx_

Curious as to what he'd gotten her, she ripped the golden paper off what was a small red velvet box eagerly. She snapped it open, looking down at a beautiful pair of small gold earrings with a single ruby on each one. _They're so Gryffindor_, she thought, grinning. Immediately, she pulled out her simple gold studs and put her new ones on, growing more home-sick by the second. She felt so lonely without her two best friends by her side. Hogwarts seemed so empty without a Weasley there, getting told off for talking in class (or getting told off for giving someone a bat bogey hex, in Ginny's case).

Changing train of thought, she reached for the third package and letter. Harry's spiky writing was barely intelligible, as always, but she managed to decipher the letter nonetheless.

_Have a great birthday, Hermione! Let's hope you don't get too much homework, you need a night off. Hope to see you soon. Everyone from the Ministry and the Order all send their well wishes._

_Best,_

_Harry_

Smiling, Hermione put the letters on her desk, before reaching for the long, thin rectangular package Harry had sent. She grinned, throwing the paper on the floor and holding a fine peacock feather quill in her hand. "Wow," she murmured, running her hand along the feather. It was so soft, and far too pretty to use. _Maybe just for special occasions_, she decided, placing it carefully on her desk by her new book. Despite feeling as close to happy she had been for what felt like a long while, she wished her friends were here, chatting, watching her open presents. Instead, she was alone in her room in the semi-darkness, with three owls being glared at by a ginger cat for company.

After setting up an invisible barrier between Crookshanks and the birds, she quickly, wrote a reply to the Weasley's, telling them that she would be there on Saturday afternoon for dinner. After attaching that to Errol's leg, she scrawled another reply for Ron, agreeing to meet him at _The Three_ _Broomsticks_ later that evening.

She reached for another bit of parchment, jotting down a reply to Harry, before setting the owls off on their way, Errol supported by the other two. _The poor thing_, Hermione thought, as she went to have a hot shower.

* * *

><p>With the lovely scent of new parchment hanging in the air, Hermione breathed in deeply as she took notes in her Charms NEWT class, always feeling much more relaxed when she had work to do. Lessons were what she enjoyed, no matter how many times Ron and Harry had tried to tell her otherwise. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards at the thought of them both.<p>

Engrossed in reading her textbook and copying down what Flitwick had asked, she stiffened slightly when a knock on the classroom door broke the silence of the note-taking students. Ignoring the nervous voice talking to the tiny Professor, she continued on writing down the information on Humani Levitation from the chalk-board.

Of all the many charms she had learned over her hears at Hogwarts, humani levitation was one that she was looking forward to very much. To be able to defy gravity without an aid would be incredible, and probably much more comfortable than brooms. Even when she was a little girl, she had always wanted to fly by herself, and she might get a chance to soon. She tried to hide her smile as she finished the next to last sentence.

"Could I have your attention for a moment, please," Professor Flitwick said as he walk to the front of the class, holding a piece of parchment in his hands. He hobbled up the ladder by his desk to see the students properly, shining his spectacles. "The Headmistress would like to see Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Zabini and Mr. Malfoy at her classroom now, if you please," he finished, looking at the older students at the back of the class, who all nodded in understanding.

Quickly, Hermione scrawled the last note from her book, before hastily packing up her things and following the three others from the room silently.

Hermione exhaled, glancing out of the windows and following the view of the green houses to the lake in the light rain. Even though he had been back at school for three weeks, she hadn't yet made time to go outside and look at the view she had adored for the past seven years.

"Ah, here you four are. Come in, we've been waiting."

Hermione broke away from the entrancing scenery to see Professor McGonagall holding open the door to her Transfiguration classroom, giving the four students a smile and ushering them in. While the Headmistress rifled through the folders of parchment she was holding, Hermione followed Neville to a double desk at the front of the class, glancing from behind her hair to see who else had been summoned from classes; a dozen students from all years and houses, most of which Hermione had spoken to at least once.

After closing the door, McGonagall cleared her throat as she walked to the front of the room, handing out pamphlets with the official Ministry of Magic seal as she did so. Hermione glanced over the cover of hers, eyes growing wide at the blurb written in gold.

_Mind Menders - helping the recovery for families so our world gets back on track as healthily as possible._

"Mind Menders," Professor McGonagall started, pushing her spectacles higher up her nose, "are the Healers of the human mind, who deal with cases of stress, depression, offering counselling and advice, especially for mental health issues; basically, a Wizarding world equivalent of Muggle psychiatrists. The Ministry has trained a team of over 100 young healers in this somewhat forgotten -about art, ten of which are going to be positioned here at Hogwarts. Now, all of our students are going to be offered this confidential service - Merlin knows some need it as soon as possible, specially if they've fought or lost family and friends, which is why I have made a note to summon a few of the people sitting before me. However, I really do think this group especially would benefit from this, which is why I urge you to make an appointment to see one as soon as they arrive here." She sighed, smoothing over her tight bun and surveying them all with a hint of concern crossing her features. "We have a lot of work to do to get our world on the road to recovery. And to do that, we need to make sure that the new generation of graduating magic folk can look the past in the eye without fear, for it's shaped the way our world is today."

Hermione looked down at her shoes, pushing the pamphlet aside. Whatever she thought Professor McGonagall had wanted, it certainly wasn't this.

"I just wanted to let you know first. I figured that...considering what all of you did last...well, in May, and, for some, for the two or so years before that, you should be told first. At Sunday's dinner, I will make an announcement for the rest of the students to let them know of the service. Mr. Longbottom, Miss Bones, if you two would stay behind? I'd appreciate it if the Head Boy and Girl welcomed the Healers when they arrive," McGonagall added as she sat behind her desk. She exhaled, rubbing at her temples, before taking off her glasses and looking at the nervous looking students. "I know that you may think you're fine and don't need any help," she began, her voice cracking slightly, "but even if you do think that, I urge you to book a consultation. Please, read through that pamphlet, I hope you find it insightful."

Taking the hint at the finality of her tone, most of the students stood up, muttering a 'thank you, Professor', as they shuffled from the room. Hermione stashed the brochure in her pocket, remembering that she needed to get permission to go to Hogsmead that evening.

"Erm, Professor?" she asked, running her fingers through her curly hair awkwardly. "I was wondering if it would be okay if I went into Hogsmeade this evening?" She bit her lip nervously as the Headmistress took off her glasses. _Please, please, please_, she thought.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "That will be fine, I'll let Filch know. You just have to be back in the castle by eleven."

Hermione smiled. "Will do. Thank you, Professor," she said.

* * *

><p>Shrugging her coat off as she entered the cosy pub, Hermione beamed when she saw Ron sitting at the table by the window. He looked up at the creak of the door and smiled at her, standing up and embracing her tightly. "It's so good to see you," she smiled.<p>

"Happy birthday, love," Ron whispered before kissing her softly.

Hermione blinked away the moisture in her eyes as they sat down, feeling the tension that had been plaguing her shoulders for the past few weeks vanish as she finally relaxed. She was having a drink with her boyfriend in her favourite pub; she loved the normality of it.

"Butterbeer? Or are you going to break the school rules and get a firewhiskey," he asked, grinning and flicking his red fringe away from his eyes.

"Butterbeer," Hermione laughed softly. As he went to the counter to order, she sighed happily, looking out at the cobbled street. It looked so pretty in the glow from the street lamps. The last time she was here, the place was swarming with Dementors and Death Eaters. She shuddered, but pushed the thought from her mind as Ron came bouncing back, already telling a joke he had heard from work.

"So, Wendilen the Weird walks into a bar..."

Hermione smiled widened, taking a sip of her drink as she watched the spark in Ron's eyes grow brighter than it had in months. She had missed him so much since she had returned to school, letters could never begin to express how much so. Reaching for his hand resting by his mug of butterbeer, she squeezed it softly, hoping he knew how much he meant to her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you for reading! ^_^


End file.
